Warehouse 13: (Part VII) Coda
by A Rhea King
Summary: Pete tells Myka the story about why he was signing 'Rooster' when he hallucinated he was back in Iraq.


**Warehouse 13**  
**"Coda"**  
By A. Rhea King

**San Francisco, CA**

Myka parked the car at the curb and sat back in her seat, staring at the house the woman was going into. She turned her head when Pete bumped into her as he made a dive into the back seat. He pulled back holding two shopping bags and wearing a grin.

"Munchies!" he excitedly told her.

She laughed. "Every single stake-out you do this, and then you whine to me the next day about how you're getting too old for this and that Montezuma hates you."

He pulled out a bag. "And veggie chips for you."

She smirked, pulling them away. "You are as bad as a kid."

He sat down in his seat, diving into a pound of licorice. He reached over, turned the car key to Accessory, and then turned on the radio. Myka didn't stop him. He stopped it on a commercial.

"Let's see what this one is."

"Better not be any of that pop you think I like and I don't."

"You like pop."

"I do not like that teenage type pop, no."

"There's a difference?" He looked at her, grinning.

"I hate you."

"Can't. I bought you veggie chips."

She laughed. "Right."

The DJ came on talking about events they wouldn't be in San Francisco long enough to go to and ended his spiel with, "And here comes the Rooster."

Myka and Pete both froze, staring at the radio. As both feared, Alice in Chain's 'Rooster' began playing. It was a fumble of hands to change the station, turn it off, or do anything to stop the song. Myka suddenly turned the car key, silencing the song.

A haunting stillness fell between them.

Myka closed her eyes. This question was always plaguing her when she and Pete were alone. She couldn't chase it away because she wanted to understand that part of his life, to know as much as she could in case she ever needed to help him again. Yet, she knew how much that past hurt Pete and she knew she'd never ask because she couldn't ask him to endure something he could barely stand remembering.

She opened her eyes when the door opened and Pete got out.

He stood outside for hours and she didn't try to ask him back inside the car. Finally, he got back in and pulled a soda from the bag. He opened it and drank some, then held it between his legs.

"You never have asked about that song," Pete said.

"Not my place to ask."

"Isn't it?"

"No. If you want to talk about it, when you're ready, you will. That's how we work sometimes, Pete. You know that. I had to walk away from the Warehouse for a while and you let me, without question. I have to accept that with this."

Pete leaned forward, resting his arms and chin on the dash. "Okay."

Silence fell again.

"I'd been over there for about five months," Pete told her. "And I went from raiding cells to riding shot gun on cargo hauls, which was boring as hell. Then we got this new kid in our unit – James Rothman. Red haired, freckles, skinny as a post, and he would not shut up about Alice in Chains. They were his gods." Pete smiled at the memory. "Jimmy's mom, we called him Jimmy, sent him their latest album and he was just sure the song Rooster was meant for us. He played it so often we all had the lyrics memorized whether we wanted to or not." Pete sat back and turned so he could face her. "You can't ever tell anyone about this. It's classified but there's no reason you shouldn't have clearance and… I really want to tell my best friend so promise?"

She held up a hooked pinky and they made a pinky promise.

"So we were told we were going to be shuttling cargo from this place to that place, but one of the Sargent's slipped and told us it was nukes for the planes. And they were in demand, if you know what I mean. It wasn't a normal cargo run, in other words. We get out on the road and all's going okay. James starts playing his CD and we get to that song. We all sang it," Pete smiled at the past minute. "We sucked! But Jimmy thought it was awesome. The song was at the last line when everything… I don't know how to really describe it. We got hit by a RPG, but it blew up the Humvee behind us and sent ours through the air. That's what I was told later. All I remember from it is that we were signing off key, and then I'm lying in the Humvee with bodies of my friends. They were all dead, Mykes. Eight of us in that Humvee and they were all dead in that instant. I don't know why or how I survived, but I did only to pass out as insurgent started going through the wreckage. When I woke up, I was in an Iraq prison. I was there for twenty-two days and… I sang that song a lot because it's all I had to hold on to."

He stopped talking and drank some of his soda.

When she realized he had stopped the story she asked, "Then how did you get home?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure how that happened. I remember being jerked out of the hole and thrown into a truck, and it was night. They drove me out into the desert, pulled me out, and dumped me in front of the truck. Down the road, there were these people in suits and a guy walking toward us. They took the guy and I can't really remember much. I don't know if I walked or was carried to a medic truck, I don't remember anything anyone said to me, it's all a blur. When I woke up I was in a base hospital, and that's where I met Amanda, she was my doctor. She told me she was never told anything about my injuries or why I was so dehydrated and malnutrition, her orders were to get me healthy so I could go home."

"What hole? You said that when you were hallucinating."

Pete heaved a sigh. "In the prison I spent a lot of time in this hole in the ground. It was barely wide enough for me and I had to stand. They'd leave me there for days."

Myka looked down. She didn't want him to see the tears from sharing in his pain. "And you don't know who the other guy was?"

Pete shook his head. "No, but I can't imagine anyone important. I mean, they traded him for me."

Myka laid her hand on his. "Your mother was a Regent then, Pete, so maybe it was more important than you think. She had to have found out what happened. Did you really think she wouldn't pull strings to save her only son?"

Pete shrugged. "I never thought about that. It's okay, though. I was ready to come home. I'd seen enough and killed enough that I was dying inside."

"Maybe that's what Evil Pete wanted to get to. That part of you that had to harden up for all that."

"Maybe. But he's a sucker cuz he picked the wrong team to mess with."

"Damn straight!" Myka said, smiling. She lifted her bottle of water.

Pete tapped his soda to it and they drank on that. He looked at the house.

"Oh! She's leaving."

The two scrambled to move things and waited until the woman left the house. They got out, heading down the sidewalk to the house. Dawn had formed a thin bright line in the east.

"Thanks," Myka told him.

"For what?'

"Telling me that."

"It was driving you crazy, wasn't it?" Pete taunted.

"Not crazy."

"It was driving you crazy."

"No. I was fine with it."

"You were not."

She smiled. "Maybe a little."

He put his arm around her shoulders. "Thought so!"

She smiled.

* * *

_The End_


End file.
